


kill their light

by gayzula



Series: by no means [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chara Has Issues, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Non-Binary Chara, Other, POV Second Person, Reader Is Chara, Recovery, Warnings May Change, backslide, god i want them to be happy but boy, multichapter story, the things are about to go trainwreck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 15:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10993377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayzula/pseuds/gayzula
Summary: Chara is determined. See, they have a goal in their mind, the one they're determined to reach no matter what; and they won't let anything get in its way - not even a chance at making peace with their past.





	kill their light

**Author's Note:**

> this has been a long overdue im sorry  
> i will finish by no means even if its the last thing i do  
> also the chapters might be a lil short at first

"Again!" a shout escapes your throat, your voice hoarse.

There is fire in your lungs; and the world is changing hues; and you feel, like any instant now, your legs are going to fall off. Waves of hot and hotter wash over you, and you're sure your entire face is red by now.

You're gasping.

With a back of your hand, you try to dry off your sweaty forehead, before snapping into the position, your eyes narrowing, hand gripping the knife tighter. The ground feels more solid than a minute ago, and... you feel satisfied.

Your moves are becoming more fluid with every minute you train, and there is confidence where once has been hesitation. Feels _exhilarating._ To drink in that atmosphere, a promise of violence. The images of blood and spilled guts - your goal - keep you moving despite any limitations.

Your body is weak. Young and forever frozen in time, unchanging. And though your heart beats and your lungs breathe - surely, you aren't truly alive. _How can I be, when there is no death waiting for me, in the future - far or near?_

You aren't human, not anymore. Not a monster, either.

Born a human and died a monster's death. Of blood, of ashes - you are something in between.

It is not at all strange, or surprising, that the lack of your humanity comes as a comfort to you instead of a problem. It fits you. The immortality thing, though, _is_ quite unsettling, but if it means you'll outlive any of those foul creatures on the surface, you're pretty content with that.

So you keep running, and walking, and crawling, no matter the obstacles.

No matter your exhaustion.

(You don't even have to sleep, you discovered, but your body works better if you do.)

So with a tightening grip on the handle of the dagger Asgore usually uses for planting the flowers in the garden, you correct your stance.

_Keep your legs wide as to maintain the balance._

_Keep the tension in your arms, your left hidden behind, ready to unsheathe the knife that is hidden behind your belt._

_Keep your center of the gravity lower than when relaxed._

_Keep looking and analyzing and anticipating._

Most of all, keep resisting.

It takes only a graze of Asgore's magic, pathetic compared to all his might, to call your soul. As usual, his summon only steals your breath - but that's okay, you don't need it. Having already died _does_ have its perks. So if you get past that instinct that urges you to inhale oxygen you don't need, you will be alright.

_I will not try to breathe,_ you remind yourself.

Resisting your own breath is somewhat similar to resisting whatever comes after - whatever keeps pulling you into death. Similar to death, breathing is unnecessary, and if you can learn to avoid one, you can learn to avoid the other.

It is fire.

It is fire and collapse and fall and implosion, and it is painful, so, so very painful.

_But it is_ nothing _compared to the buttercup poisoning! I have endured worse._

So you refuse to give in - and at the moment, there is _nothing_ in this world that you're incapable of doing.

Your field of vision clears out, sharp and steady. Taking a step towards Asgore, one after another, you recognize the look in his eyes as pride, and something inside your chest responds. But there is no time to be happy about your accomplishment. Sure, you're a step closer to your goal, but there is still a long way to go. You might not have passed out, but you still need to learn to fight in that state.

You charge ahead, aware of every single movement your body makes. The focus on Asgore allows you to see detail of his steady position, but blurs everything else round it. No matter, you can work with it just fine.

And though you're fast and determined, when you're expecting a clash, there is only a hard ground with its impact against your jaw.

How...?

_He must've predicted my movements like they were nothing._

Attempting to cough isn't a very good idea, but your body doesn't listen to your conscious commands. Asgore must be aware of it, because in a flicker of a light - his magic - your breath has been released and your lughs are once again filled with oxygen.

Amazing.

Asgore fighting is just... amazing. And on a completely different level, too.

"Wow," you gasp out loud, a trace of a smile forming on your lips. "That was something!"

He comes up to you. "You were," he agrees with a huff. Then he crouches down and offers you a hand.

"Nah, I haven't even stood a chance," you shrug, taking his hand, helping you stand up.

"But you did - you _did_ manage to stay conscious throughout the entire Soul Call."

"Well," you consider his words, "yeah. Pretty good, right?" And then your grin is _wide_ and toothy, and your cheeks hurt a little, unaccustomed to smiling. "I figured out the trick to it."

Asgore prompts you with a smile, "Hmm?"

"Yeah.  It's all about patience and stubbornness!"

"I imagine the abundance of latter makes up for the lack of former, eh?" a subtle jab, and Asgore's  eyes are _twinkling,_ which you haven't seen for a long time. Your own eyes widen when you notice this.

"I'll have you _know_ that I'm very patient, _thank you very much,"_ you roll your eyes and pout, pretend-offended. "In _fact,_ I bet I could out-patience you!"

A thought crosses your mind, _That was such an Asriel thing to say._ You can almost hear your stand-offish past self roll their eyes and point out, that _no such verb exists, Ree._

To which he would respond, _Do I look like I chara,_ with this gleeful gleam in his look.

_Asriel, you savage,_ you would groan and snort and shake your head at his pun.

Asgore replies, "Well, I am certainly glad you're humble as ever."

"Ouch," you grin even wider. "What's up with that sarcasm, Asgore?"

"Well, you're not the only one who has learned a few tricks." His eyes are sparkling, and his smile is widening with every moment, which makes your chest lighter and lighter.

A barky laugh escapes your lips. "You must be _really_ proud of yourself, then."

"Whaddya say," he winks. "I am."

You're both sweaty, and tired; and the distant chirping of birds from beyond the barrier fades in your loud laughter and friendly joking. And somehow, moments later, you find yourselves lying in the flowers like two shattered pieces that belong to the same whole.

You close your eyes, for a while, and think, _I'm home._

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me @ gayzula.tumblr.com


End file.
